


It All Comes Down to Chance

by thehibiscusthief



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 1 Year of Miraculous, AU references, Gen, fic references, looking at possibilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehibiscusthief/pseuds/thehibiscusthief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a year since Marinette Dupain-Cheng became Ladybug, but she can't stop thinking about the what-ifs. Tikki shows her glimpses of what might have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It All Comes Down to Chance

**Author's Note:**

> There are glimpses of scenes and references to concepts from other fics written from an observer's viewpoint. I have given credit to the authors in the end notes. If you are the author of one of these fics and do not want your fic used, please let me know and I will change it.

It had been a year since Marinette Dupain-Cheng had found a small box sitting on her vanity. 

It had been a year since a superhero called Ladybug had appeared in Paris.

In the grand scheme of things, a year is not that much, especially when one has already experienced fifteen. Science says each year seems shorter and shorter because each one makes up less of one’s total experience so far. When one is three, a year is a third of one’s life. When one is fifteen, it is much less.

Even so, a lot can happen in a year.

And if one thing were different, that year would change drastically.

It all comes down to chance, really.

-)|(-

Marinette sits, swinging her legs, perched on a bench in the shadow of an alley. To most eyes, this alley doesn’t seem to have much significance, no more than a year does. However, if one were to look through the archive of a popular site known as the Ladyblog, one might find a shaky, grainy video of this alley. A monster made of stone would appear, a boy in black leather would vault around, and an excited girl would be pinned by a car. A voice would be heard, screaming a name, then calling for a transformation. 

The first akuma battle. The first appearance of Ladybug.

Marinette breathes a sigh, looking at the bricks forming the sides of the alley. There, that spot, was where Ivan stood, roaring while swinging his stone fists. Here, this wall, was where Alya was trapped by a car, the consequence of her curiosity. And there…

There she had accepted the burden of Ladybug. There she had fastened the earrings and transformed into the savior of Paris.

“Tikki,” Marinette begins, “What if I hadn’t saved Alya that day?”

Her kwami peeks out of her purse. “What do you mean, Marinette?”

“What if Alya had taken her bag and found the earrings? What if Alya had become Ladybug?” Marinette asks, chewing a strand of her hair.

“The chance of that was very small. There’s not much point in discussing the ‘what if’s,” Tikki replies, floating out of the purse and tucking herself into Marinette’s pigtail.

“Alya would have made a good Ladybug,” Marinette muses.

“Perhaps. But you were the best fit.”

“Best fit?” Marinette asks, glancing at the kwami hidden in her hair.

“Each miraculous requires certain qualities of the user and brings out certain qualities in the user,” Tikki explains. “You were perfectly suited for the Ladybug miraculous! In a pinch, Alya could have worked, but you had the best chance of reaching the full potential.”

There it was again. Chance. 

“And what do you mean by chance?” Marinette says, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of her blazer. She’d have to fix that later.

“The world is governed by chance. The chance of it raining, the chance of meeting someone, the chance of a meteor destroying everything, all chance. As the kwami of chance, I can see all the possibilites.”

“I don’t understand…”

“It’s easier to show you, rather than tell you. Would you like to see some of the chances?” Tikki offers, flitting up to face Marinette. She nods. Tikki smiles, then flies up to press their foreheads together. She closes her eyes, motioning for Marinette to do the same.

Instead of the normal sight of the back of her eyelids, Marinette sees a swirling vortex of red and black, twisting and spiraling around her. Startled, she blinks her eyes open and jerks away, immediately dispelling the vision. Tikki is still there, her eyes closed tightly. Her spots are slightly glowing, a pale luminescence in the dim alley. Marinette breathes deeply, calming herself down, before leaning back towards her kwami and letting her eyes fall shut.

The colors are still there, but it’s less dizzying now that she expects it. 

_ Are you ready? _ Tikki’s voice echoes in the maelstrom of red and black. Marinette nods- thinks she nods- before the colors begin to coalesce into images. They pass by her slowly at first, calmly orbiting her point of vision.

_ These are the possibilites, the chances. This is the power of Ladybug. _ Tikki says quietly. An image is pushed in front of her. Four teenagers are sitting around a table outside of a cafe, laughing and chatting. A blond boy is sitting alone in the back, sipping a cup of coffee. The image flickers, showing them all in various costumes for a split second, faces grim, before returning to the peaceful cafe.

It soon fades, the sound of laughter drifting away, and is replaced with a vision of Paris burning. Two silhouettes can be seen leaning on each other, one with long black pigtails and the other with messy blond hair. It looks like the blond boy from the first scene. Snatches of conversation drift to Marinette’s ears.

_ Chat, the akumas are getting more and more dangerous. He’s a maniac. _

_ We need to find the source, Ladybug. We need to find the Butterfly. _

Were these people her and Chat? They didn’t really look like either of them, but they obviously were playing the same role.

_ They were the best chance for a more violent enemy. _ Tikki murmurs.  Another Ladybug and Chat Noir, then.

The scene shifts again, this time to a dark club. Loud music fills the air, a beat pumping through the floor. In the center of a large crowd, two figures dance. One is in red spots, the other in green paw prints. They spin, they kick, they balance. Breakdancers competing for the cheering of a crowd. Marinette’s mouth drops open in awe as they twist around each other, moving together and creating something beautiful.

_ That’s you, you know _ . Tikki says, pride in her voice. No way. She could never dance like that.

Suddenly, Marinette is in the middle of a gym, dodgeballs flying everywhere. She and Adrien are on one side, facing off alone against half her class. She sees herself pick up two balls, vaulting off of Adrien, and slamming both balls into the stomachs of the other team while in the air. She lands, locking eyes with Adrien, and a brief flash of recognition shows in their eyes before they grin and continue their assault on the other team.

Was Adrien really that good at dodgeball? They would play it in gym eventually…

The walls of the gym twist, collapsing in on themselves, and she stands on the steps outside of school. A magazine is in her hands, with Chat’s smirk plastered across Adrien’s face and  _ oh dear- _

The magazine vanishes, although her blush is still going full force. She’s surrounded by fragrant flowers. Marinette peers through a window and watches herself shove open the door of the flowershop, storming over to the counter, slapping a twenty euro note on the counter and demanding a bouquet.

Wow. That’s some language. She must be seriously angry.

She stumbles out of the shop, clutching the bouquet in a trembling pair of hands. The door closes behind her and immediately changes shape. Marinette sees herself slip behind the door that, just a second ago, led to the flowershop. A few moments pass before Chat slowly walks up to the door, extending a claw to the handle. He closes his hand around it and hesitantly pulls it open just as the flash of her detransformation fills the room.

The scene fades away, the look of betrayal on her face the last thing to disappear. Marinette is fuming. How dare he!  
_Marinette_.

_ That was just a possibility. _

_ Do not be angry _ .

A bridge spreads under her feet, replacing the thick carpet, and the ground drops away to form the Seine. Someone is coasting down the river on what looks like a shell. A hood is drawn over his head and goggles are covering his eyes. Thin wires come out of a pocket and lead into the hood. He turns his head, catching sight of something on the street, and Marinette glimpses earbuds tucked into his ears. A faint beat drifts towards her, a song that sounds like one of Nino’s mixes.

The second he passes under the bridge, he vanishes. Soft footsteps sound from behind her and she turns around. Chat Noir stands there, dressed in white instead of black. Purple eyes glare from underneath a mask pale as snow. Ladybug dashes around him, yoyo zipping back and forth, parried by his baton. She manages to snag the zipper of his pocket, plucking out a photo of a familiar blonde woman. She rips it in half and an akuma tries to flee before she captures it.

Marinette shudders. She hopes she never has to purify her partner.

The walls of her room sprout up around her, complete with posters. Looking down, she sees a silver ring on her hand. A black, catlike kwami is hovering in front of her.

_ Well, kid? Say the phrase and let’s go! Ladybug’s waiting! _

She raises her head, about to ask a question, when the kwami flickers and changes. Now, there’s a blue bird hovering by her head. A brooch in the shape of a peacock’s tail is resting in her palm. She blinks. Where’s Tikki?

A swarm of white butterflies covers her hand for a second, and when they disperse, another brooch is there instead. It’s a purple butterfly. A gentle weight rests on her shoulders. Turning her head, she is met with a lavender kwami with fluttering wings. It gives her a small smile before fading away.

She’s in a Starbucks now, standing next to Adrien. A heavy bag is slung across her chest. Peeking inside, she sees leotards, tights, and ballet shoes.

_ Come on, it’s our turn to order. We’ll be late for class _ .

She looks back at him to reply, but now he’s just a face on a billboard lit up against the night sky. He’s wearing tangerine lipstick. It works well with his skin tone, but she doesn’t remember this. She’s kept an eye on every ad featuring Adrien, so it’s odd that she doesn’t recognize it.

She blinks. When she opens her eyes again, she’s pinned against a wall and Chat’s feral grin has taken the place of Adrien’s soft smile. She’s in costume, peering out of a spotted mask. A claw reaches towards her ear, ready to pluck out an earring.

_ Papillon will be very happy, Ladybug. _

She narrows her eyes. She brings her knee up hard while yanking her yoyo off of her hip. She spins, landing a solid kick on Chat’s stomach. He gasps, his air forced out of his lungs. She darts forward, continuing her attack, throwing her yoyo out and guiding it around him. Soon, he’s on the floor trussed up like a pig. She stoops, grabbing his hand, and pulls his miraculous off.

A burst of green sparks fills her vision and when it clears, she’s watching an episode of Project Runway. She’s on the screen, hunched over a sewing machine and working feverishly. Marinette shifts on the couch, accidentally hitting a button on the remote. The television turns off. For a second, the screen is plain black, but tendrils of red soon creep across it. The colors twist together, forming the spiraling patterns from earlier. The screen grows and the patterns expand until they fill Marinette’s vision. She remains still, watching as the red and black dance around her. She catches glimpses of the scenes she was shown, flickering in and out of her sight.

The colors reach a peak, frantically writhing, forming new images and new shapes and new patterns. It’s almost too much to take in. Marinette winces. As if in response, the swirls calm down, moving slower and slower. Eventually, they coalesce into a single shape. Soon, the black and red is just Tikki.

_ Those were all chances. _

Marinette opens her eyes. She is still in the alley, sitting on a bench. She begins to swing her legs again, slower than before. Tikki hovers in front of her, wearing a warm smile.

“Do you understand better now?” she asks.

Marinette nods.

“It all comes down to chance.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can hardly believe this show has been going on for a year. There are so many talented artists and writers in this fandom and I feel privileged to be able to enjoy all of your work. This fic was meant to be sort of a snapshot of popular fics and ideas in the fandom.
> 
> References in order of appearance:  
> Quantic kids  
> PV kids  
> Starrycove's breakdance AU  
> Tandem by BullySquadess  
> Smoulder by midnightstarlightwrites  
> F*ck You in Flowers by thehibiscusthief (me)  
> I know several fics have played around with the idea of Chat opening the door, but I cannot remember their names. If you do know, please tell me so I can give credit.  
> Won't Tell a Soul & The Weight of Jade by thelastpilot  
> Akuma!Chat  
> Kwami swaps, inspired by imthepunchlords Always a Hero, No Matter the Miraculous series  
> tangled ribbons by demistories  
> The Ladybugs and the Bees by BullySquadess  
> Enemies AU  
> Chasing the C/h/atwalk by Inkerfluffle
> 
> stop by my tumblr thehibiscusthief


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